We Love You Voldy!
by NitenGale
Summary: Voldemort's followers inadvertently take two muggle teenage girls prisoner. You gotta feel sorry for them. For Voldy and his Death Munchers we mean.
1. Prologue:Our Inspiration

Disclaimer: We didn't make up this list. It is an ever-growing list that can be found at Mugglenet, we're afraid of lawyers too!

Prologue: Our Inspiration

121 Ways to Annoy, Harass, Confuse or Generally Scare Lord Voldemort

Sure-fire ways to get yourself killed, or at least Crucio'd round the block and back again.

1. Ask him why he 'doesn't have such a cool scar?'

2. Laugh at him.

3. Wake him up by singing Beach Boys songs in his ear. 'Round, round, get around, I get around...'

4. Knit him things. Really hideous things.

5. Give him kangaroo-ears for a month.

6. Smile during Death-Eater meetings and say you taught him everything he knows.

7. Chew bubblegum all the time. Should he address you, your only response will be a series of huge bubbles in quick succession, the last of which will burst everywhere and make a mess.

8. Dance the Funky Chicken.

9. Ask him when was the last time he took a bath.

10. Pat him on the head and give him flowers when his plans are foiled yet again.

11. If you ever need to say 'Like taking candy from a baby', be sure to add 'Of course, SOME of us might find that harder than others.' Stare pointedly at him.

12. Play 'knock-&-run' at his bedchamber door late at night.

13. Call him 'The-man-who-let-the-boy-live'

14. Ask why the Dark Mark couldn't look like something 'more socially acceptable?'

15. Insist that you have met chunks of cheese with more cunning plans than his.

16. Pinch him. Make sure he squeals.

17. Be cheerful.

18. When he tries to impress you with his powers say 'Awwwww, lookit. Voldie's got a twiggle!'

19. Try to teach him to play a mouth organ.

20. Roll your eyes during plotting sessions and say things under your breath like 'You're the boss, boss' or 'It's your funeral.'

21. Greet him in the mornings with a sarcastic 'My sir, you look particularly menacing today.'

22. Taunt him about his middle name. 'Marvolo? What's that, a washing detergent?'

23. Keep a 'good-behavior chart'. Award points and give out gold stars.

24. Magic-marker Potter-style glasses on him while he sleeps.

25. Apparate into and out of his room rapidly. Do this non-stop for an hour. poof there poof gone poof there...

26. Play cards with him. Tell him he has no poker face and how does he expect to rule supreme without one?

27. Let off party-poppers in his face whenever the urge strikes you.

28. 'Did you even HAVE a girlfriend? Like, ever?'

29. Get a pair of finger puppets closely resembling himself and Harry Potter. Re-enact all of Harry's victories over him in a spectacularly childish way. Be sure to give them both squeaky voices.

30. Anytime he enters any room, insist on entering first and announcing him grandly.

31. In these announcements, fake a trumpet noise and give him an equally fake drum roll.

32. Exclaim sarcastically 'You're breakin' my little heart here, o dark one' whenever he starts to talk of what has caused to become who he is.

33. Encourage him to 'think happy thoughts!'

34. Ask him to give you written summaries of his sinister plots for revenge and war. Correct his spelling.

35. Mock his choice of Quirrel as a 'host'.

36. Tell you think a yoga class could 'cure him of his wicked ways'

37. Get the song 'Mr. Tambourine Man' stuck in his head.

38. If he's having evil-plotter's-block in one of his scheming sessions 'Wingardium Leviosa' a light bulb to float above his head. Turn it on. Look offended when he gets angry and say you 'thought you were helping!'

39. Tell him constantly to stop repressing his anger.

40. Buy him a stress ball.

41. Hint that he is only a character in a book and will never triumph.

42. Call him Tommy-boy.

43. If you're feeling gutsy, call him Voldie-poo.

44. Whack him in the arm and say 'mosquito' - every few minutes.

45. Say he 'looked better under the turban'

46. Eat his pet snake. Offer him some.

47. Endeavor to teach him to steeple his fingers, lean back and say 'Eeeexcellent'.

48. Start drawing outlandish parallels between his life story and 'Star Wars'. Talk at great length.

49. Be generally in awe of him and never look away.

50. 'Imperius' his Death Eaters into a rousing chorus of 'All Things Bright And Beautiful'

51. Shower him with confetti and rice, anytime you think he needs to make a 'grand entry'.

52. Paint all the Death-Eater masks with bright colors and glitter.

53. Throw him a 'care-bears' themed birthday party.

54. Tell him what Snape's really up to.

55. Politely exclaim now and again that you 'don't know how he can be so afraid of dear old Dumbles'

56. Sing 'California Dreamin' at the top of your lungs when he's trying to have an 'evil moment'

57. Should you ever be eating with him - drum tunes with your cutlery, play with your food, and blow bubbles in your chocolate milk.

58. Ask him to dance a polka with you.

59. Work cutesy phrases like 'pushing-up-daisies' and 'smooth-as-a-baby's-bottom' into conversation as much as possible.

60. Ask him if he's sure 'the whole evil-maniac-out-for-power-and-revenge thing isn't getting a bit old?'

61. Get him to play 'Twister' with you.

62. Tell him you know this great therapist in London...

63. Throw Tupperware parties. Insist he sit through them.

64. Tell him you've met plenty of people more evil than he.

65. Hide his teddy bear. That ALWAYS makes him cry.

66. Get him a plant. Act mortally offended when he doesn't water it and it dies.

67. Steal, snap and bury his wand.

68. Tell him Lucius did it.

69. Give Rita Skeeter full knowledge of his whereabouts and contact details.

70. Remind him that he isn't even really alive.

71. Write him a theme song. Start singing it whenever he is about to do or say something particularly clever and nasty.

72. Offer to sacrifice Draco Malfoy 'to the cause'

73. Insist on reading him bedtime stories. Include 'The Ugly Duckling'

74. Make vague allusions to Harry Potter being his son.

75. When he's done something particularly nasty - cross your arms, waggle a finger and say 'Now now, do you really think Salazar would have approved of that?'

76. Ask him how he can possibly wish to harm a single hair on the head of 'that sweet, innocent, cute little boy.'

77. Tell him Wormtail has a crush on him.

78. Finish all your sentences with the words "in accordance with prophecy."

79. Leave disgusting and rotting dead things near him. Insist that it is 'Aromatherapy'

80. Begin any question you ask him with 'Riddle me this!' Emphasis on Riddle.

81. Do not EVER act in the slightest way intimidated by him. Treat him as you would an eccentric acquaintance.

82. Cuddle him at random moments.

83. Sign him up for Little-League.

84. Ask him why he's afraid of a frail old man with a beard the size of a beehive and can't fight babies.

85. Throw biscuits at him. Constantly.

86. Tell him you think evil master plans of world domination are 'kind of girlie'

87. Quote Argus Filch. Insist HE will one day rule the wizarding world.

88. Wonder aloud whether the name Voldemort commands as much respect as, say, Potter or Dumbledore.

89. Mimic everything he says in a singsong voice.

90. Mimic everything he does with exaggerated limb-movements.

91. Write sonnets for him.

92. Insist he help you with the newspaper crossword every morning.

93. Follow a few paces behind him, spraying everything he touches with a can of disinfectant.

94. Tell people he's 'really just a big softie'

95. Psychoanalyze him. Conclude that he is 'mildly depressed' and 'a bit of a control-freak'.

96. Mock his baldness.

97. Smile and say loudly 'Who loves you, Volders?' at inopportune moments. (I.e.: another of his attempted 'evil moments')

98. Get him drunk.

99. Drag out a banjo at Death Eater revels and start playing 'Kumbayah'

100. Let him catch you trying on Death-Eater robes.

101. Be Harry Potter. Be alive.

102. As he's plotting dark deeds, pretend to cough and mutter things like "Not gonna work," or "stupid."

103. Call him "Champ" or "Tiger." Refer to yourself as "Coach."

104. Three words: Potter Puppet Pals.

105. Ask him where he gets his garlic-scented soap.

106. Ask him to dye Easter eggs with you.

107. . . . at Christmas.

108. Make him dance in the rain with you.

109. Insist that this is to cleanse his soul.

110. "Accidentally" schedule him a him a haircut.

111. . . . even though he's bald.

112. Be offended by everything he says.

113. When he gives you an order, stare at him blankly and drool.

114. Invite him to go streaking.

115. Kill Harry.

116. On the next Valentine's Day, decorate his lair.

117. ..make sure the decorations are pink and frilly.

118. Tell him that getting the same plastic surgeon as Michael Jackson was definitely a bad idea.

119. Paint his fingernails hot pink while he's sleeping, then place a permanent sticking charm on them so he can't remove the color.

120. Whenever you look at him cover your eyes with your hands and scream "IT BURNS!"

121. Bake him scar shaped cookies, but insist it wasn't purposeful.


	2. Chapter 1: Stupid Phone Booth!

Disclaimer: Neither I nor my co-author for this story is J.K.R., so we don't own anything except for the characters Jake and Lee and the plotline. Don't sue us please!

Chapter 1: Stupid Phone Booth!

"This is all your fault Jayklin."

"My fault? How is this my fault?"

"I don't know. But it's all your fault."

" . . .?"

If you're wondering what on Earth is going on, you probably don't want to know. But so that you can understand at least 1/100 of this fic, I'll try to explain.

"What? You were the one who bought the tickets!"

"But it was your idea to go to London in the first place!"

"But it was your idea to go on vacation!"

As you can guess, there are two people arguing at the moment. The argument seems to be over who is to blame for missing the flight back to America. But as these are both college girls, they never place the blame correctly. Here is a completely unbiased account of what has happened up until this point.

These two young, beautiful, very smart college girls, Jayklin "Jake" Tyler and Leeann "Lee" Everett decided, upon their summer vacation, to go to Europe, namely England, well known for its beautiful scenery, great shopping, and relaxing spas. (For more information on taking this vacation, check with your local travel agent.) They had a marvelous time during their three-week stay in London and they were ready to go home (on account of the fact that they were both flat broke). So they packed up and left to catch the plane to America. But, as they were nearing the airport, darkness and depravity struck again.

They got stuck in traffic.

And as you can already tell, they missed the plane. Now be sure to learn from this, kids. Make sure you leave at least five hours early for the airport because . . . all together now: _stuck in traffic miss plane!_

"So what do we do now?" Lee asked while staring longing down the empty gate.

"The only thing we can," Jake replied, rubbing her temples in an attempt to prevent the coming headache.

"What's that?"

Jake looked at Lee with an evil smirk.

"No. No! No way. Don't even s–"

"We call the parental units."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" Lee broke down crying.

It was quite an interesting day in the airport when two college-age girls passed through, one calmly dragging the other screaming, biting, clawing, pleading teenager. It's surprising that none of the security guards stepped forward, but one witness said they were too busy laughing at what made the "shorter" woman go crazy (seeing as they could hear her pleas quite clearly).

Well, it was at a nearby phone booth that the adventure truly began. It was the only phone booth open that Jake and Lee could find within five miles of the airport. But unfortunately –

"It's not working."

"Huh?" Jake grunted, earning herself a smack in the head.

"The phone isn't working. It won't take my money."

"Actually, it's my money."

"You handed it to me. That makes it mine."

"Whatever. But how can it not be working? The phone booths are always working. Always!"

"Well, this one isn't, unless pay phones normally spit money out when one is attempting to call their parents. Which reminds me . . . why do _I _have to call _my _parents?"

"Because yours are nicer."

"Jake, the last time I contacted my parents, they threatened me with paralysis and destroying my car if I didn't bring my calculus grade up from a C to an A."

"They did not. They only threatened you with taking away your car insurance. Besides, my parents threatened me with taking away my manga."

"Oh, yes. Your beloved manga. And they threatened you with that when, exactly? Oh yeah, when you nearly set fire to our neighbor's apartment."

"Yes. Therefore, your parents are nicer and you should be the one to beg for transportation."

"I don't believe this."

After about ten more minutes of arguing, attempting to use the busted phone, and Lee trying to escape, the girls finally decided to do the sensible thing: try another phone. Maybe it was because they were fighting over whose parents were agents of the devil, or maybe they were just unobservant. Either way, the two took quite a spill when their feet got caught on THE ROBES. _DunDunDunnnnn!_

­

"Oh, my head."

"Oh, my back. Get off!"

Shortly after, Jake was sent sprawling from being thrown off of Lee, effectively hitting a nearby lamppost with her head. Ouch!

"So," Lee looked around and stood up. "What happened?"

"Groan . . . "

"Then what do you _think_ happened?"

"Groan . . . grunt grunt snort . . . moan . . . "

"Tripped over something? Makes sense, but what?"

"Low groan/growl . . . "

"Oh. Look on the ground. Right." Looking around, Lee successfully found several large, black pieces of cloth.

"Hey, what're these?"

"Rbs."

"That was a rhetorical question Jake, but yeah, you're right. They kind of look like those robes Scream wore in 'Scary Movie', huh?"

"I ate tha movie."

"Jake, did you hit your head?"

"No, genius. I'm just looking at all the pretty stars."

"Well, that's good then. So what do we do with them?"

"Sell'em for cash."

"But who's gonna buy them? They won't get much money anyway."

"Enough for food."

"True. What else are we going to with them, anyway? Wear them for Halloween?"

"Halloween's three months away."

"Those guys don't seem to think so."

" . . .!"

Suddenly, from out of the still, dark night (well, as dark as it gets in a major city), figures riding a flock of some strange cross between a bird and a horse. The girls took one look (or two) at the creatures and dashed for cover in a nearby alley.

"What are those things?" Lee asked.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're the one who's majoring in zoology."

"That was before I switched to architecture. And those things aren't any type of animal I know. What about you Miss Mythology PhD?"

"Oh, um… I think they're h-… um…"

"So… h- what?"

"They're h- h- h- heffalumps!"

"You've been watching Winnie the Pooh again haven't you?"

"Yeah… hehe."

"Grrrr…."

The girls were to busy debating over what the weird creatures were to notice that their riders had detected their trashy (literally) hiding place.

"They're a cross between a horse and an eagle so they must be 'horgles'."

"'Horgles'? That makes no sense!"

"Then what do you think they are Miss Brainiac?

"I don't know! I just know that they aren't 'horgles' and they are definitely not 'heffalumps'!"

"Actually, they're hippogriffs."

"Hippo – what?"

That was all the girls got out before the darkness took over with a loud "_Stupefy_".

Jake woke up to see a large circle of people in long, black robes surrounding her and Lee, who was also stirring. She noticed that they all seemed to be in a dungeon-like room, the people all liked to wear Scream masks, and the "man" standing in front of the girls was abnormally pale, bald, and had red eyes. He also happened to not have a visible nose.

Jake snorted. "What is this? A cult gathering?"

"Nah," giggled Lee, who was looking a little cross-eyed. "They're that famous troupe of ballet dancers that sing the Macarena polka-style."

"Uh, Lee . . . did you hit your head?"

"No . . . hehehe . . . look at the pretty birdies chasing the stars and rainbows! Aren't they cute?"

It was the question that unnerved Jake more than anything else: Lee never said the word "cute" if she could help it.

One of the robes figures sniggered.

"Alright," growled the ticked-off pale-faced guy, "I've said it a million times: NO CONFUNDING CHARMS ON MY PRISONERS!"

"Yes, Mr. Dark Lord, sir," chorused the entire circle.

"Now, whoever cast the charm, take it off now."

Lee immediately stopped giggling and Jake relaxed.

"Spoilsport," someone muttered.

"WHO WAS THAT!" roared the "Dark" lord.

"No one, Mr. Dark Lord, sir," the circle recited.

"Who is this guy?" chuckled Lee, "And why is he trying out the 'Barney' look?"

"Barney's purple. He's doing the Michael Jackson impression," said Jake, trying in vain to keep a smile off her face.

"WHAT!" screamed the Michael Jackson impersonator. "Why aren't you two cowering in fear of me!"

"Should we be?" asked Lee.

"ABSOLUTELY!"

"Why?" asked Jake, "You're some dude lacking in essential vitamins with a superiority complex. We can't quiver before every guy like you."

"You mean you do not know who I am? You don't know the Dark Lord who will (one day) defeat that Potter brat and rule over the world? I'm surprised that blasted Rowling hasn't told the stories of my constant battles with the brat to your part of the world. It astounds me that there are still people in this world who don't know and tremble at my name: Voldemort!"

"You're a wannabe evil over-lord?" asked Jake, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"Wow. I've never met one before. Can I have your autograph?" asked Lee, smirking.

"They still don't shake," despaired Voldemort. "It must be your fault!" he yelled, pointing at the robed people.

"Our fault, Mr. Dark Lord, sir?" asked the figures, warily, knowing he was in the mood for tortured followers.

"Yes! I'm supposed to be an evil lord with an elite group of followers that strike fear into the hearts of all they encounter, yet you embarrass me in front of my prisoners and you ruin my reputation in the eyes of the public! Plus, you make Christmas and birthday cards for each other! No self-respecting Death Eater should feel comfortable doing that!"

Lee shook her head, laughing to herself. "Dude, you're embarrassing yourself."

Jake looked slightly puzzled. "How do I end up having these dreams?"

"I have no idea," said Lee, standing up. "Maybe it was something you ate."

That earned her a smack in the shin, causing her to fall and hit both knees on the hard, stone floor.

"Ouch! Hey, Dream Jake, what was . . . wait a minute . . ." It had just occurred to her that you can't feel physical pain in your dreams. So, she did the one thing that she could to confirm her suspisions.

She pinched Jake . . .

"Ow!"

. . . who pinched her back.

"Hey . . ."

"But that means . . ."

That was when the two of them officially lost it.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOoooooooooooooo!"

To Be Continued . . .

A/N: (from NitenGale) Well, my co-author for this fic, AnGi (who is not a registered author, so don't try to find her), has chosen to remain silent, so I'll talk instead. This story is a joint effort ten months in the making, so we hope you guys like it! I know I've enjoyed working on it. Until next time, which involved talking candlesticks, snakes, and chocolate pudding, this is NitenGale signing off!


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